The bronze Horseman / Медный всадник. Книга для чтения на английском языке

And all that night he lay, so dreaming,

And wishing sadly that the gale

Would bate its melancholy screaming

And that the rain would not assail

The glass so fiercely… But sleep closes

His eyes at last, and he reposes,

But see, the mists of that rough night

Thin out, and the pale day grows bright;

That dreadful day! – For Neva, leaping

Seaward all night against the blast

Was beaten in the strife at last,

Against the frantic tempest sweeping;

And on her banks at break of day

The people swarmed and crowded, curious,

And reveled in the towering spray

That spattered where the waves were furious.

But the wind driving from the bay

Dammed Neva back, and she receding

Came up, in wrath and riot speeding;

And soon the islands flooded lay.

Madder the weather grew, and ever

Higher upswelled the roaring river

And bubbled like a kettle, and whirled

And like a maddened beast was hurled

Swift on the city.

Fled from its path, and all about it

A sudden space was cleared; the flow

Dashed in the cellars down below;

Canals above their borders spouted.

Behold Petropol floating lie

Like Triton in the deep, waist-high!

A siege! The wicked waves, attacking

Climb thief-like through the windows;

backing,

The boats sternforemost smite the glass;

Trays with their soaking wrappage pass;

And timbers, roofs, and huts all shattered,

The wares of thrifty traders scattered,

And the pale beggar’s chattels small,

Coffins from sodden graveyards – all

Swim in the streets!

And contemplating

God’s wrath, the folk their doom are waiting.

All will be lost; ah, where shall they

Find food and shelter for today?

The glorious emperor, now departed,

In that grim year was sovereign

Of Russia still. He came, sick-hearted,

Out on his balcony, and in pain

He said: “No Tsar, with God, is master

Over God’s elements!” In thought

He sat, and gazed on the disaster

Sad-eyed, and on the evil wrought;

For now the squares with lakes

were studded,

Their torrents broad the streets

had flooded,

And now forlorn and islander

The palace seemed.

One word: – and see, along the highways

His generals[2 - Count Miloradovich and Adjutant-General Benckendorff (Pushkin’s note).